Jane Austen?

A month or two ago, sitting with a girlfriend in my kitchen, drinking beer and sewing curtains, we gossiped, as people do, about relationships - past, present and future. As stories unfolded, she looked at me, gentle readers, and told me that I should write them all down, so that when she was finished reading the works of Jane Austen, she could read the tales of your MatchGirl's loves and losses.

Now, your MatchGirl has not read a lot of Jane Austen, though perhaps that would be a good summer reading endeavor, but my life's loves are certainly full of complex stories. There are none so simple as "girl meets boy". Of course, is that ever really the case in this modern society? We spend so much time online - making friends and acquaintances over social networking sites. We keep in touch with those we love over text messages and e-mails. I don't know about you, dear readers, but I barely just talk on the phone any longer.  It's a rare treat when I have the time.

I have one dear friend who met a girl in real life, and then, while living in separate countries, and chatting online and via Skype on a regular basis, decided that they should be in a relationship - before they had ever been alone together.  They've, of course, since spent time together.  And, to my eyes, and your MatchGirl has known this gentleman for a very long time, he is very happy.

Your MatchGirl, in case you could not tell, loves the written word.  And I love getting to know someone using the written word, but I wonder if all these things (of which I heartily partake) that are supposed to make it easier to communicate really make it harder.  I wonder if we were better off in those days where you met someone, in real life first, and got to know them slowly over a matter of time - over drinks and coffees and dinners and walks from the movie theater.  I remember those times.  I'm not sure my life was any better for it, but I wonder about them.